


The Scars We Bear

by QuickSilverFox3



Series: Whumptober 2019 [15]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Minor Kraglin Obfonteri/Yondu Udonta, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 17:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21058175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: Yondu waited until the door slid shut behind him to slid down the cool metal, lock engaging with a heavy thunk that sent a shiver down his spine, the noise too reminiscent of a jail cell closing for him to seperate the two, head fogged with drink and regrets.





	The Scars We Bear

**Author's Note:**

> [ My Tumblr!](https://inkformyblood.tumblr.com) Requests are always welcome!
> 
> Whumptober #15 Scars

Yondu waited until the door slid shut behind him to slid down the cool metal, lock engaging with a heavy thunk that sent a shiver down his spine, the noise too reminiscent of a jail cell closing for him to seperate the two, head fogged with drink and regrets. He tipped his head back, metal cool against the throbbing heat at the base of his implant, never ending irritation spreading like raditation through his head until it felt like his memories where drenched in red heat. Far below his feet his crew drank and sang, high on the glint of new credits and on the strong hooch Maggie made in the pouches beneath her bunk, sickly sweet and strong enough to convert a wailing priest of Ost to their side.

  


Kraglin was with them.

Yondu's feelings for his first mate were complicated: a tangled knot of longing and fear, unable to pick through the mess that his upbringing inflicted on him. Stakar would know better than he did, but Yondu was outcast now. The prick of tears to his eyes enraged him.

He may be an outcast - thrown out again by those who promised he would never be alone again, filthy liars, why? - but he was still a Ravager, they couldn't take that away from him. All for an escort mission, taking those children who were alone to their father, not a trafficker, never a slaver. Copper filled his mouth, dragging him back to reality, implant aching as Yondu realised he had been rocking on his heels, slamming his head backwards into the door. He hadn't done that in years, not since Stakar dragged him out of the Kree fighting pits, snarling and biting into the light.

"Lights off," Yondu rasped, eyes closed, refusing to open them even when the backs of his eyelids were no longer tinted blue. The darkness was a blessing and a curse. His fingers snuck up to rub at the network of scars slipping from his implant, thin enough to be invisible with the naked eye, but unavoidable underneath his sensitive fingertips. His birth planet had never been quiet, the air filled with the chattering of other Centurians, the whisper of plants, the calls of animals. The cages of the Kree had been torture in more ways than they could have ever expected.

And then they cut off his fin to stop him screaming, screwing an implant into his head to keep him quiet.

Yondu grinned, the light from his Yakka arrow flaring briefly in response.

He was Yondu Udonta, Ravager Captain of the Elector. But for now, just for now: he was going to let himself be scared and regretful, running his fingers along the scars that were his downfall and his salvation.


End file.
